


Autumn Leaves Must Fall

by Lordcecelia, RigorMorton



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fall setting, Forgiveness, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal is in prison, Hannictober Challenge, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Man, Pumpkins, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Sweaters, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lordcecelia/pseuds/Lordcecelia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RigorMorton/pseuds/RigorMorton
Summary: Hannictober Day 7: SweatersIt's been three years since Hannibal Lecter surrendered himself to the FBI, down on his knees in the snow, so Will Graham would always know where to find him. He knew one day, Will would come calling, and that day is today.Will needs Hannibal's help catching a brutal killer targeting families in their sleep, but Hannibal will only help on one condition:Hannibal taps his fingers against his table, “it is autumn yes? It was always my favorite of seasons. As I will most likely never be allowed out from here, I would like a visual reminder of the season.” He nods to himself before continuing, “A photograph of you, in a fall setting. A new picture. One taken just for me.” He finishes with a pointed look at Will.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 38
Kudos: 247
Collections: #Hannictober





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by Twitter user @kiligris 's fan art of Hugh Dancy carrying pumpkins, and a little by Chad and Jeremy's A Summer Song. 
> 
> I just really needed Hannibal asking Will to take a picture of himself just for Hannibal, and getting more into it than he expected.
> 
> This fic was co-written with the lovely @Lord_Cecelia (Twitter) l0rd-disik (Tumblr) She was kind enough to be the Hannibal to my Will and created lovely fan art for this, that you will see in chapter 3.

_They say that all good things must end someday. Autumn leaves must fall._

Will wipes his sweaty palms down the front of his pant legs, his nerves starting to get the better of him. He hasn't seen Hannibal Lecter in a long time. He somehow mustered the strength to keep his promise to Hannibal for three long years. The promise that he would not seek him out in any way shape or form. But now here he is, a wife and stepson later, visiting Hannibal in prison for the first time. Daring to ask the scorned killer a favor. 

The guard opens the door and Will steps inside. A flood of feelings hit him like a ton of bricks at the sight of Hannibal Lecter, standing behind a glass wall in a nearly empty room. 

He's wearing a dark gray jumpsuit just like the one Will wore years prior, and he doesn't look half bad in it. 

They must be forcing haircuts onto him because Hannibal would never choose that short choppy hairstyle. Will kind of likes it though. A nice change. He looks handsome if Will's being honest with himself. 

  
Hannibal eyes Will through the glass, takes a breath and notes his scent. Terrible after shave, dogs, but something else- something or someone new. A woman? A child? Hannibal finds that this knowledge makes him feel something sour. 

His boy looks good though, as beautiful as Hannibal could remember, with Hannibal’s scar peeking out on his forehead and a smug smile placed firmly on his face.

Will can't quite place the curious look on Hannibal's face. He looks slightly confused. Annoyed even. He decides to open with a joke. 

  
He clears his throat, stepping up to the glass, smiling smugly. "I see you got a haircut." He couldn't resist. 

“I have gotten many haircuts over the years, three years to be exact. Alana seems to prefer it be kept short.” 

Hannibal knows why Will is here, he has read the papers- seen the accounts of this new killer. Knows Will wants him to help.

Will finds it funny Hannibal had to slip in the 'three years' comment to remind Will how long he'd abandoned him. That's fair enough he supposes.

"You know, I kinda have to agree with Alana on this one." He smiles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he steps in close to the glass. "I like it. You look handsome."

This is not normally something he would say out loud to Hannibal, but considering Hannibal's locked up and there's no need to worry about any feelings being acted upon, he figures what's the harm? Plus if it softens Hannibal up for the favor, then it's all worth it. 

Hannibal raises an eyebrow at the handsome comment. His boy has grown quite bold, how very interesting.

Was it just a ploy to endear him to Will for this favor? Hannibal does not think so- Will was being honest, very interesting, indeed.

He keeps his posture straight, his hands clasped behind his back. “I thought you intended to, how did you put it, not find me, not look for me, yet here you are.” There is no question asked, there needn’t be, Hannibal thought Will had said all he had ever needed to in regards to him.

  
"Yes, I did say that didn't I? And yet here I am. I'll cut straight to the chase. I need a favor." 

“A favor? Does it have something to do with this young man being talked about in the papers- what are they calling him? The tooth fairy? I doubt he enjoys the moniker.” 

  
Hannibal walks over to his table in the center of his cell and takes a seat, he focuses on his drawings and such on the surface. Acting as if Will’s appearance hasn’t shaken him to his core and he isn’t supernaturally aware of the man's presence. As he picks up a piece of charcoal and resumes a sketch from earlier he asks, “What is it exactly you want from me, Will?”

"Yes indeed it does. He's killing families, Hannibal. I need to know how he's choosing them. I felt you might have some ideas."

Will tries to keep his poker face. Just offering warm smiles, but nothing that would allow Hannibal to see just how much he's enjoying this. How good it is to see him again. Makes Will wonder how he managed to stay away so long. 

“Are you not capable of empathizing with the tooth fairy as you have with the killers of your past?” The 'as you did with me', is implied and left between them. 

He looks up at Will again, “You came here to have a look at me, to get that old scent again. Why don't you just smell yourself?” There’s a coldness behind Hannibal’s tone.

Will's adam's apple bobs up and down in his throat at the other man's crude words. Hannibal wants to play dirty. This should come as no surprise. 

He can hear the bitterness in Hannibal's voice. Will really scorned him. Hannibal turned himself in, just so Will could see him whenever he wanted and yet he never came. He supposes he'd be angry too.

"That's fair." He admits, hoping that his honesty will help his case a little. "I may not have to rely solely on you to find the Tooth Fairy, but I would really like your help." Like. Not need. He chooses that phrasing carefully. Deliberate. 

  
Hannibal hums at that, he knows the words are chosen with intention. Will wants his help. He knows Will expects him to just offer his services, because being able to work with Will should be reward enough. 

But Hannibal has been waiting three years for the man, and though he has no intention to outright deny Will- he would probably never see the man again if he did, he does intend to make him work for it. 

So he chooses to carefully say, “and what am I to get out of this?”

  
Will internally sighs. He should've seen this coming from a mile away. Should've known a little sweet talk wasn't going to be enough after three years of rejection.

He clears his throat, starting to pace across the floor as he speaks. "I don't know, doctor Lecter. What would you like out of this?" 

The name change is deliberate. Just delivering a little spite in frustration. He knows Hannibal prefers being on a first name basis. 

  
'Dr. Lecter', Hannibal knows this too is a deliberate word choice but cannot help but feel the sting of it as well. Salt in his already open wounds. 

To ignore Hannibal for three years, come here smelling of a life lived without him and then spitefully refuse his first name. It almost feels cruel. His boy has certainly grown into himself.

Hannibal taps his fingers against his table, “it is autumn yes? It was always my favorite of seasons. As I will most likely never be allowed out from here, I would like a visual reminder of the season.” He nods to himself before continuing, “A photograph of you, in a fall setting. A new picture. One taken just for me.” He finishes with a pointed look at Will.

Will's eyes instinctively widen. He tries his best to keep a straight face. Either to not offend Hannibal or even worse, let him see the slightest glimmer of pleasure.

He's kind of disgusted with himself for not finding the request crude. Instead he finds it endearing.

He can't let that show of course. He'll have to accept the request, begrudgingly.

Will clears his throat, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Alright." He nods, deliberately making his smile look fake. "I suppose it's not that much to ask. Any chance you'd at least read the file before I deliver on my end, just to speed things up? Please?"

'Please?' Hannibal could not deny Will if he tried. 

“I suppose it will do me no harm to have some variation in my reading material.” He says as he walks over to the transfer box in the corner, gesturing for Will to join him. 

“However, I will share no observations or thoughts until my demand is met.” It’s said with a tone of levity, as he waits for Will to slide the file into the box.

Will sighs in relief. Time is ticking. 

"Thank you." He makes a point to be as sincere as possible, making good eye contact and smiling warmly. 

Will walks to the transfer box, sliding the drawer open and slipping the envelope inside. 

"I'll get right on it." He nods agreeingly. 

And he really means it. There's no time to waste. He's already wondering what color sweater he should buy to wear in the picture, not even realizing how odd it is that he wants to buy a new outfit when he has plenty of fall clothes at home. 

“It was good to see you Will. I look forward to your photograph,” Hannibal says as he takes the file and returns to his seat, “do give your family my best.” And with that he resumes his drawing from earlier.

'Same old Hannibal'. Will thinks to himself, stepping back from the glass. 

"Good to see you too." He returns the gesture, putting his hand up in a slow goodbye wave - completely ignoring the 'family' comment, and walks out the door, closing it behind him. 

Will's left reeling as he walks back down the long corridor, that will inevitably lead him right back to his normal life. Feels strange. Feels like nothing's changed. Hannibal's still as in love with Will as ever. Will could see it in his face. Hear it in his voice, despite the other man's attempts to conceal it. And Will, as Bedelia would put it, still aches for him, much to his chagrin. 

  
Hannibal's left with a similar feeling. Seeing Will again was jarring. Hannibal had given up hope of ever seeing the other again. It had been three years since Hannibal knelt in the snow and gave up all that he was for the man. 

And then when he finally does show up he has moved on. Has what hannibal assumes is a wife and a child. A life without Hannibal. So while seeing him again was nice- would always be nice, all that came with it was vastly unpleasant. 

He thinks with a pang, that the photograph may end up being all he has left of Will after the tooth fairy case ends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to see here. In the words of my co-author Just adorable Will fussing about with his perfect pumpkin.

Will returns home, shopping bag in hand, and dumps it upside down on his bed.

Luckily Molly and Walter are gone. They went to visit Molly's mother just on the outskirts of town. He has plenty of time to get ready and set up for the picture. 

It almost feels like he's doing something wrong. Something he's not supposed to. Cheating in a way. Maybe he is. After all if he wouldn't want his wife to see this, chances are he is doing something wrong.

He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind as he starts to undress himself, getting ready to put his new clothes on.

The embarrassingly long time it took him to pick out a sweater at the department store is something Will Graham will take to the grave. 

He wanted something that said 'fall' but also wasn't terribly ugly. Fall colors don't make great sweaters. Bright orange or dingy brown is probably not what Hannibal has in mind. 

Will finally settled on a black, turtleneck sweater and khaki pants. Nice, but not at all gawdy. 

He gets himself changed and goes into the bathroom to fix his hair. He runs a wet comb through it a few times and adds a little gel just to tame his curls slightly. 

Will keeps telling himself it's not weird at all that he's going all out for this picture even though Hannibal asked for the bare minimum. And it's certainly not at all strange that he bought a pumpkin as a prop and not just any pumpkin, but the most perfect one he could find. Perfectly round with a stem that so happened to still be green with those little curly leaves coming out of it. The kind you only see in paintings. 

He grabs it off of the counter and runs outside with it, propping it up under the tree he's chosen to use as a backdrop. It's perfect. Its leaves have turned that beautiful orange and brown color. Some of them are scattered all over the ground under the tree where they'd fallen. 

Will sets the timer on his camera and sits down under the tree next to the perfectly round pumpkin (he's oh so proud of), and pulls his legs into his chest. 

He quickly slips on his glasses thinking they'll make him look more Sears catalogue-y, and rests his arm on the edge of the pumpkin, keeping his head turned to the side, avoiding looking straight into the camera. Too elementary school picture day for him. 

The whole thing is silly, he thinks to himself as the camera shutter clicks and flashes at him. He really hopes he managed to capture what Hannibal had in mind, and doesn't end up looking cheesy or ridiculous. 

Will pulls himself up off the ground and retrieves the camera from the hood of his car. Thank God for camera timers. He can't think of a single person he could've asked to help him take the picture that wouldn't think he'd lost his damn mind. 

Now comes the hard part. Getting it developed and taking it to Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying this so far, follow me on Twitter @goodbyehorses90 I need Hannigram mutuals.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will hand delivers his perfect pumpkin picture to Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to the picture of Will here [Link text](https://l0rd-disick.tumblr.com/post/631467730845007873)

Hannibal would be lying if he said that Will’s departure does not make him anxious. To see the object of his affections for the first time in three long years had caused something to stir within him. Filled him with a restlessness that he’s sure Alana will notice and ask him about at some point.

To know that Will had moved on so fully from him, a wife, a child, a family. Leaves him bitter. He was Will’s family and Will was his. He gave Will a child, they could have built the same life together couldn’t they? Him, Will, Abigail. But Will didn’t want him then- and he still doesn’t want him now.

He feels the same sting he felt when they had returned from Muskrat farms. Will had looked him in the eyes and said, “I miss my dogs. I'm not going to miss you. I'm not going to find you. I'm not going to look for you. I don't want to know where you are or what you do. I don't want to think about you anymore.” And he had meant it, hadn’t he?

For three years he had gone on living as if Hannibal had not existed. Funnily enough, this is the third time Will had broken Hannibal’s heart. 

He wants to be spiteful and bitter, wants to tell Alana he doesn’t want any more visits from Will Graham, he can write up his case observations and leave it with her for him. But he can’t. It doesn’t really matter anyway, Will is likely to have nothing to do with him beyond the tooth fairy, so he paces his cell and waits for Will’s return feeling every bit a weak man. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal doesn't know this, but Will's dealing with a turmoil all his own. Right outside of Hannibal's cell as a matter of fact.

He feels even more nervous than the last visit. He's worried what Hannibal will think of his picture, but can't quite put his finger on why he's worried. It's not as if Hannibal will renege on the deal, if he is displeased. Will did exactly what was asked of him. Now Hannibal will have to keep up his end of the bargain. 

Despite knowing this, Will feels there's still something at stake. His dignity at the very least. 

The guard swipes his key card at the lock and holds the door open for for Will. 

He walks inside, practically holding his breath as he approaches the glass.

"Hello, Hannibal." He flashes a polite smile, clinging tightly to the large villa envelope in his hands. 

“Hello, Will. I see we are back on a first name basis.” Hannibal says without looking up from his book, he makes no move to get up from where he is laying on his cot. 

“I take it you have completed the request I made of you.” 

Will already feels a little uneasy. Hannibal seems a little frigid today. But it's too late now. He's got the envelope in his hand. 

He clears his throat, nervously holding the envelope up for Hannibal to see. "Got it right here." He replies, walking over to the drop box and placing it inside - stomach in knots. 

Hannibal finally closes his book, putting it down and swinging his legs over the side of his bed- rising with grace. He walks over the the drop box and removes the envelope, he doesn’t open it- not yet.

He places it on his table and then finally looks at Will. “So tell me what conclusions you have already drawn in regards to our new special friend?”

'Um, aren't you gonna open that?' Will thinks to himself, but he can't say that. Can't look eager.

But the look on his face says it all. Tells the tale of how Will's heart just dropped into his feet. 

Oh how the tables have turned. Now it's him being rejected. 

He clears his throat trying not to seem too thrown off. 

"He smashed all the mirrors in the houses. Just enough to get the pieces that he wanted. The shards were set so he could see himself in their eyes. The question is why?"

“Why indeed? Why does anyone want to see themselves, Will? The shards are placed after the murders- so he wants to see how he looks after the act. Wishes to see the result of his carnage on his own person- looking for a transformation of some sort?” 

He leans against the table, facing Will, reminiscent of poses struck at the desk in his office. 

“Perhaps he wants to witness his own becoming.” He injects a sense of admiration into his tone.

Will finds himself staring at the envelope on Hannibal's desk, wondering if he'll even open it today, much less with Will in the room. It's so distracting.

He realizes he better knock it off. Hannibal's not an idiot. 

"Yes." Will clears his throat for what's probably the fourth time since he's been here. Not obvious at all. "His becoming. With each kill he comes closer to fully transitioning. Maybe to him he's not even killing them. He's changing them too." He ponders for a moment - his eyes catching the envelope again, and quickly looking away. 

Hannibal notices Will’s attention is focused less on him than on the unopened envelope. He picks it up running his fingers along the edges but not opening. Making Will's heart skip a beat.

For a mere second Will thinks he's gonna open it up ever so casually, right there in the middle of their conversation.

Instead he keeps his gaze on Will as he asks, “why do you think he chooses families? It is obvious that they are as important as the mirrors themselves. Is he attacking the idea of families as a whole? Or perhaps he is angry about losing his own?” There is an unspoken, 'the way I lost mine', stuck in the space between them.

Will realizes he blew it. He just couldn't keep his eyes off the envelope. And now Hannibal knows. He's taunting him.

'Son of a bitch.' He mutters to himself. 

There's not much he can do about it. He can't confront him. Then he'll have to admit Hannibal opening it is important to him.

He'll just have to play along. 

"I'd guess he's a victim of abuse. He saw his parents as evil. Or like you said, he just lost them and is envious of what these families have. Because he'll never have it."

“The loss or denial of a family can be a vicious driver of action.” Hannibal says as he glances at the scar on Will’s forehead, quickly dropping his gaze to where he had carved his goodbye into Will all those years ago.

“Is there no apparent connection between the families? There is nothing in the file that indicates they knew one another directly. Understanding the families themselves may lend insight into your tooth fairy.” He runs his thumb under the opening flap of the envelope, lifting it ever so slightly before pressing it back down. 

Something about the way Hannibal looks at him has a pit stirring in Will's lower belly. It's just like old times. Exactly how he remembers their relationship before Hannibal surrendered. Toxic.

Be that as it may, Will still aches for him. He's felt so empty all these years without Hannibal. No matter how much he did to find fulfillment, he never found it. Not until Hannibal asked him for a picture of himself of course. Then he suddenly had a purpose. 

Why is he like this? He wonders. It's almost like Hannibal's his destiny, as cheesey as that sounds. Like no matter what path he chooses it always comes right back down to Hannibal. 

Will feels sick. He's falling right back into his old habits. The ones he's been running from for three years. He tries to keep it together. Keep his face and voice straight. 

"Yeah… there seems to be no connection. Not one we can find anyhow. Not yet."

He avoids eye contact with Hannibal, looking down at his shoes, or the wall. Anything but Hannibal's face, and especially not the envelope. 

Hannibal places the envelope back on the table and speaks very matter of factly, “can you bring me more information on the families themselves? The lives they lived may shed more light than their deaths. There is not much to be gleaned from the case file other than a vague understanding that your tooth fairy is trying to bring about a transformation.” 

It’s dismissive in nature, but also an invitation to return. Aptly descriptive of how he feels about Will Graham at the moment, bitter but affectionate nonetheless.

"Yeah. Of course." Will nods, somberly. 

He's not even trying to not look upset at this point. He really just wants to get out of there. Escape Hannibal's cold shoulder.

"I need to get going anyway. Thanks." He presents a very unenthusiastic smile. The kind you give when you're riddled with disappointment but are trying not to be rude. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hannibal waits until well after Will leaves before sitting at his table and opening the envelope. He admittedly does not have very high expectations, probably just Will in the outfit he left in after Hannibal had made his request standing amongst some trees- looking like he rather be anywhere else. 

The photograph that slides out shatters his heart. 

Oh he had been unnecessarily cruel to his boy- hadn’t he? 

Will sits at the base of a lovely tree, amongst falling autumn leaves, arm wrapped around what undoubtedly appears to be a freshly chosen pumpkin. His shirt and pants look new, tight against his skin- and not something he would ever expect Will to wear, meaning they were meant for him. 

Hannibal aches at the thought. There’s an unnamed emotion burning a way through his chest, shrouding his heart. Regret- he thinks. 

He burns the image of Will into his mind forever, imagining it as a portrait above a mantle in his mind palace. He places the physical image back into the envelope and picks up a clean sheet of paper and a writing instrument- and begins to write.

When he finishes, Hannibal gets up, leaving it in the transfer box, knowing Alana and the guards will take care of seeing it delivered. Walking back over to where the photograph lays in his envelope he realizes- even if Will does not return, at least he will always have this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will gets Hannibal's letter, and it hits him harder than expected.

_But don't you know that it hurts me so to say goodbye to you. Wish you didn't have to go. No, no, no, no._

Two days have gone by since Will's visit to the Baltimore State Hospital, and Hannibal Lecter hasn't left his mind since.

He regrets ever going. At least then he could live in ignorance, instead of having to come to terms with the fact, that Hannibal's coldness towards him, hurt him.

Now all he can think about is whether or not Hannibal opened the envelope.

If he hadn't, then that means he doesn't care about it. Would Hannibal do that? Ask for something intimate of Will, just to test him, with no real interest in the actual product? Only interested in whether or not Will was willing to do it? Will doesn't put it past him.

If he had opened it already, then that must mean he's displeased with it. Wild horses couldn't keep the Hannibal he knows away, if he had loved it. Been touched by it in any way.

His Hannibal would've found a way.

Will's spent the better part of the evening on the couch, lounging around in his boxers, and channel surfing - surrounded by lazy dogs lying around his feet.

Normally a pretty relaxing way to spend it, if he weren't so distracted.

Suddenly Molly comes through the front door - the cool breeze that follows her in, snapping Will out of his trance.

Will clears his throat, sitting up straight to great her with a fake warm smile.

His wife does not return the sentiment. She looks concerned. Shaken even.

"This came for you." She says almost accusatory, as she throws the envelope down on the coffee table.

Will instinctively reaches for it, and his stomach sinks at the sight of the name Dr. Hannibal Lecter on the front of it.

It appears Hannibal had finally opened the envelope.

"Why is he writing you letters?" Molly asks, her arms crossed over her breast - eyes full of worry.

"It's police business." Will lies, looking her straight in the eyes like a pro. He's not proud of it.

"Police business?" She repeats skeptically.

"Yes. He's helping me with a case. I didn't want to see him in person. So Jack gave him a copy of the file and told him to give me his thoughts via mail." It's a pretty good cover, he must admit.

Molly's face grows a little softer and she nods, seemingly feeling guilty for being so accusatory.

Will wonders why she jumped to these conclusions so quickly. It's almost like she knows the extent of their relationship, except he never told her.

Did she read the Tattle Crime articles? Did one of his colleagues tell her? Or…. Can she just see it in his face whenever Hannibal Lecter is brought up? Will surely hopes not.

"Everything's fine, honey." He grabs her hand, giving it a light, loving squeeze.

Molly flashes a half smile as if she's not fully convinced, and Will stands up placing a soft peck to her cheek, before heading into the other room to read it.

He hopes it's not too suspicious. Certainly she knows he's not allowed to share anything about the case with her, so he'd have to read it alone.

Will sits himself down in his desk chair, and starts to carefully open the envelope, his hands shaking along with his stomach.

This letter either contains rejection or acceptance, and he's not sure which one scares him the most.

He takes a deep breath,slipping his glasses on, and unfolding the paper under the light of his desk lamp.

Dearest Will,

I find myself irrevocably grateful for the gift you have bestowed upon me. I asked for a photo and you gave me art. I realize it was so very unkind of me to treat you as I did, it may even be considered rude.

If we could reverse time, I would have done it differently. Opened the envelope in front of you- thanked you sincerely in person. But you and I are no strangers to irreversible moments. We walk amongst a lot of tea cup shards.

I do not have many regrets Will, however; the ones I do have are all centered around you.

I do hope to see you again soon, we can further discuss the contents of the case file involving your newest murderer.

Always yours,  
Hannibal Lecter

A tightness forms in the beginnings of Will's throat. A lumpy swelling that makes his eyes start to water.

He puts a shaky hand over his quivering lips, trying to stifle any noise battling to escape his throat.

Will has never cried over Hannibal. He never let himself. He made it his duty to keep that stiff upper lip. To convince himself that Hannibal was always just a friend. A friend who turned out to be an enemy. Someone that Will could just cut out of his life, as simple as pie, and go on to build another, never needing to see him again.

Somewhere deep down he always knew that wasn't true. And he did a fairly good job of keeping that buried. Until now that is.

Hannibal's words have unearthed something inside him. Something he hoped would never rise to the surface again.

And now as his face falls into his hands, it rises up from the depths of his heaving chest in the form of warm, salty liquid that falls from his eyes.

Will tries his best to quiet his sobbing and sniveling. If Molly heard,then the jig would most certainly be up.

He puts the letter back in the envelope, and puts it in his work drawer. The one Molly knows not to open. The one with the lock.

Sniveling and broken, he manages to make his way to the bathroom, filling his trembling hands with cold water and splashing it over his face, trying to calm his puffy eyes.

If he only knew Hannibal wanted to write more, tell Will how he is often confused by his desire to protect the younger man and hurt him for the hurt he had caused Hannibal. How he yearns for him, but the sight of him brings forth a stabbing pain. How seeing Will as he is now, settled in a life that does not involve Hannibal, causes a anger and jealous to burn deep within him.

But Hannibal decided it would be best if Alana and whomever else prescreens his letters do not see the extent of his turmoil. He chose plausible deniability instead.

However, Will does not have to. He has the option of writing down everything he's feeling in this moment, because he doesn't have to mail it. He can hand deliver the letter himself. Away from Alana's prying eyes.

That's what he decides to do. He'll write Hannibal a letter in return. Not only because Hannibal would probably prefer it, so he can keep it for sentimental purposes, but also so Will doesn't have to say it aloud. He feels he'll choke in the older man's presence.

This way, he can politely return this grand gesture,and not have to be immediately confronted by Hannibal's gaze. Cowardly maybe. But right now, that's all he has the strength to give.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will brings Hannibal his letter and the two finally lay it all out on the table.

Hannibal finds himself feeling uncomfortable waiting for a response from Will. He wonders briefly what he will do if Will does not reply at all. It would be well within his rights, Hannibal had not been accommodating at all when Will was standing right in front of him.

But it was very difficult to navigate his own feelings for the man. He had hurt Hannibal - yes, that was true. But Hannibal knows he he caused Will immeasurable pain as well. Not just the litany of scars he wore that had been caused by Hannibal, but emotional ones as well. He had toyed with his trust, prodded at him while he was sick, took what could not be given back from him.

It would be fair, Hannibal thinks, if Will really did not ever step foot back into his life ever again. Leaving Hannibal with just memories and one photograph.

But Hannibal has no idea just how wrong he is. He's completely clueless to the fact that Will Graham is already on his way to his cell, a return letter in hand.

Again, now for the third time in a week, Will Graham finds himself climbing the steps of the Baltimore State Hospital to visit Hannibal Lecter.

The pit that usually twists in his stomach when he visits Hannibal, is no longer there. He's not sure if it was reading Hannibal's letter or writing his own, but nevertheless, a weight has been lifted. Both were probably equally therapeutic.

Eagerness has now replaced anxiousness, as he awaits to be let inside the room.

As soon as the keycard beeps, Will is practically pushing his way past the guard, and stepping into the familiar room that Hannibal now calls home.

He waits for the guard to leave and shut the door before making his way up to the glass, envelope in hand.

Hannibal even looks different to him post letter. More warm. More like he remembers him back when they first met, minus the new hair of course.

"Hello, Hannibal." Will says warmly, opening and closing his lifted hand slowly in a soft, almost meek wave hello.

“Hello, Will.” Hannibal does not let his surprise pass on his face. He was expecting at most a return letter. To be gifted with a visit is more than he knows he deserves.

“I take it you received my letter.” His smile is equally soft, and warm. Nothing like it was the last time they stood face to face.

"I did indeed.It was very lovely. Thank you." Will replies trying to refrain from grinning too widely, but it's one of those uncontrollable grins, that takes on a mind of its own when you're gushing about something. Or more like someone.

"I wasn't sure how you would prefer a response. A well thought out letter, just like you gave me, or a visit. So I decided on both." He laughs holding up the envelope.

"And delivering in person does have its benefits. You know…." He points over his shoulder "Big brother's watching."

“Ah, yes, Dr. Bloom does love to be fully informed of the happenings of her charges.” He glances at the envelope in Will’s hand.

'Will you stay while I read it?' He does not verbally express his plea, but it shines in his eyes. He wants the ability to be sincere in person with Will.

The butterflies that laid dormant in Will's stomach begin to flutter again at the eagerness he finds in Hannibal's face.

The plan was to drop it off and run for the hills, back to the safety of his home. His wife. But something tugs at him to stay a while longer.

Although the thought of Hannibal reading such intimate confessions from him, make his cheeks burn bright, he pulls open the transfer box anyhow, and slips the letter inside.

"You can read that whenever." He tries to be nonchalant, shrugging and running his hand down the back of his head. He doesn't realize it, but that's a tale tell sign he's nervous.

He internally scolds himself for his social awkwardness. He was doing so well up until just now. Chipper. Confident. Even a little funny.

Hannibal smiles as he finds how nervous Will is utterly endearing. He walks to the box and picks up the letter from his side. He does none of the fluttering and flaunting he did with the photograph- choosing instead to just pop the envelope open and begin reading.

Dear Hannibal, I just wanted to start by saying I'm glad you liked the picture. I was happy to do it. Surprisingly happy, if I'm being honest.

I wasn't prepared for the flood of emotions that would come over me upon seeing you again. It was nice to walk out of there feeling wanted.

And while we're on the subject of our visit, I thought I should tell you that I didn't actually need your help with the tooth fairy. Not that a second pair of eyes isn't helpful, just that it was less about needing help and more about me wanting to see you. I'm sure this comes as no surprise, but I thought it might be nice to hear it.

Me staying away for all these years was not as easy as I made it seem. Our relationship is not one sided. It never was.

I just struggled with self acceptance for a long time.

I was in denial. More like disbelief. I'd never so much as looked at another man that way before. It didn't seem possible to spend thirty some odd years,being so sure about something, and then boom, suddenly your whole life is a lie. It's not an easy thing to accept.

And yes I battled with self loathing, but not because of some internalized homophobia. Because of moral reasons. I work for the FBI. My job is to protect people, not turn a blind eye to murder and cannibalism because I was falling for you. No offense. I'm just trying to explain why I dragged my feet for so long.

That night when we were supposed to run away, when we were in the kitchen, it was the first time I accepted my feelings for what they were. When you said you couldn't leave without me, I was immediately filled with regret.

When I leaned in toward you, I wanted you to kiss me, but I was too late.

I am by no means trying to guilt you for what happened instead. I've been at peace with that for a while now. I'm merely trying to make you understand my regret.

Even after all that, you still gave me another chance to leave with you, after Muskrat Farm, and again I blew it.

If I had just gone, you wouldn't be locked up right now, and I honestly don't know how you managed to forgive me.

For what it's worth, I'm so sorry Hannibal. The results of my stubbornness and cowardice, is something I'll live with forever. I just hope you know you're the only man I ever loved. And will always have my whole heart.

Yours, and only yours - Will

Hannibal feels- irrevocably sad at the letter in his hand. It's so bittersweet, knowing his affections were returned- are returned. Knowing that despite the love they share, they are still so very doomed to be apart.

He wants to be angry- at himself for not leaning in and kissing Will, at Will for not leaving with him. But all he feels is yearning- and resignation.

He looks up at his boy, and can’t help but feel his already broken heart crumble some more. This is all they have- epistolary confessionals and a pane of glass between them. He mourns what could have been.

He says softly- but still loud enough to carry. “You have nothing to apologize,for dear boy. All has already been forgiven.” He smiles a soft sort of smile- one that is equal measures sad and full of love. “I am to you what you have always been to me.”

He hopes Will understands what he’s saying- that Hannibal loves him, he always will. And that despite being Alana’s prisoner he belongs to no one other than Will Graham.

Will keeps quiet for a moment trying not to choke on the tears welling inside as he speaks.

That hot lump in his throat returns once again,- wet warmth pooling in the corners of his eyes.

He can't lose it. Not here. He imagines the guards whispering to Alana that Hannibal's curly haired visitor left with red cheeks and swollen eyes. A sniffling mess.

She probably already suspects an inappropriate relationship between FBI man and prisoner. Jack most certainly does and if those two get together and compare notes, it's over.

Finally Will speaks over the lump in his throat.

"So what now?" He asks, voice breaking slightly. A.K.A: 'How do we stay in each others lives without drawing suspicion?'

If he starts visiting Hannibal all the time, or the two write letters too frequently, it's only a matter of time before the whispers start, and inevitably make it back to Freddie Lounds.

Will's marriage and career would most certainly crumble. His marriage probably will anyhow to be fair. But the FBI can't employ a man who fell in love with a cannibalistic killer. Not even Jack would put up with that.

Will starts to contemplate if that even matters anymore.

Hannibal sees the desperate emotions swirling in Will’s eyes. Wants nothing more than to comfort him- assure him that some way some how, he will make his way out of this prison and they can have another chance at all they thought they had lost. But he can’t, certainly not with all the eyes and ears on them here.

He clears his throat, and says, “for now, we do our best to capture your tooth fairy. We mustn’t worry too much about the future- it’ll happen as it will.” He gives Will a look with a near mischievous gleam to his gaze.

Will squints in suspicion at Hannibal. He knows that look. Hannibal's already scheming how he can get out of here.

He takes note of the fact Hannibal's been in here three years and has had zero escape attempts. Yet he seems so sure he can escape now. Funny that.

Hannibal literally sat in prison for years, when he could escape anytime. This shouldn't be a revelation to Will, but he finds it endearing nonetheless. Nobody's ever loved him like that.

Will looks over his shoulder, making sure the guards aren't watching through the door, and moves in closer to the glass.

He pulls a notepad from his front pocket and scribbles down the words: If you ever escape, where should we meet?

And drops it into the transfer drawer a long with a pen - heart practically thundering in his chest.

Hannibal raises an eye at the rushed movement, and makes his way quickly to the box. Knowing if they’re being watched he will not have much time to write his reply and for Will to slip out of here with it.

He reads the note and jots down his reply quickly. A set of coordinates to a house only he knows exists. He drops the paper back into the box, taking a quick second to discreetly remove the clip from the pen-slipping it up his sleeve, before putting that into the box as well.

Hannibal gestures for Will to quickly take the remnants and to get out of here as soon as possible. His room is constantly monitored and once Alana views this exchange she will stop at nothing to see what he has written.

Will pulls the notepad out of the drawer, and quickly shoves it back into his front pocket.

He gives Hannibal an understanding nod, and turns to run out the door, but as he reaches for the door knob, something tugs him back.

There's no guarantee, Hannibal will find a way out of here. He'll certainly try now that he knows his boy is finally ready to embrace his destiny, but escaping a maximum security facility, is not a simple task, even for Hannibal Lecter.

It's not something one can just do, spur of the moment, unless an absolute perfect opportunity arises. That could take years. Without such an opportunity would require meticulous planning, for months on end.

And Will can't be seen visiting Hannibal too often without garnering an unwanted amount of attention. It could be a while before they're able to see or write each other. His heart aches at the thought.

He turns around and runs back toward the glass, quickly slipping two fingers into one of the air holes in the front panel of Hannibal's cell, reaching for him.

The holes aren't quite big enough to fit a whole hand through, but he's confident he gets the point across. He just needs one little touch. Something to hold on to.

Hannibal tilts his head in confusion at first, but immediately softens when Will reaches out for him.

He walks swiftly to where the fingers are peeking out at him and wraps two of his own around them, making Will's stomach churn as the warm fingers coil tightly around his own. Those butterflies that seem to only appear with Hannibal's presence, rear their heads once more.

The touch is simple and brief. Certainly not much by most physical affection standards, but for now it's all they have. It's everything.

Hannibal gives Will's fingers a bit of a squeeze as he says, “you must leave now, quickly.” And quickly lets go, taking a step back from the glass.

Will nods in agreement as their fingers part ways, and heads for the door, once more.

It slams behind him with a heavy clank, and he starts to run, feet kissing the hard slick floor - a thundering noise of shoes resonating off the hospital walls, with a pounding echo that mimics the throbbing of his heart inside his chest.

There doesn't appear to be anyone chasing him, much to his relief, but he presses on anyhow, continuing his sprint all the way out to the parking lot, just in case.

If Alana finds those coordinates along with his question to Hannibal written on the notepad in his front pocket, it's over.

They might even be able to charge him with conspiracy. Will figures the 'it was just a hypothetical' excuse, will not work in either of their favor.

His drive home is long and grueling. So many thoughts pounding in his head at once.

He starts making plans in his head. Plans to leave Molly and start a life of celibacy, which he's more than willing to do for Hannibal. It's the least he can do to make up for the terrible mistakes that landed Hannibal in there in the first place.

Hannibal gave up everything for him. Certainly Will can do the same in return.

Writing letters and visiting behind a wall of glass isn't that bad. As long as they're somehow in each other's lives, it's do-able. And maybe one day, the glass wall will come down, and the teacup can come together again.

Hannibal, on the other hand has no doubt that he can easily escape this prison, he has not had any doubts for the last few years- but he has also had no reason to. He's here because he wants to be, and as that is no longer the case he will see to it that he makes it outside of this prison as soon as humanly possible.

He fingers the little bit of metal now pressed into his skin under his uniform. It really shouldn’t be an issue at all.

Hannibal feels a renewed sense of hope for the first time in three years, he would be downright exuberant if it weren’t for the constant monitoring.

Will loves him.

He loves him and he wants Hannibal out of here so that they can be together. And when has Hannibal ever been able to deny his boy a thing?

_When the rain beats upon my windowpane. I think of summer days again, and dream of you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, find me on Tumblr www.rigormorton32.tumblr.com


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